


Carry On

by Albertdoesnteatglass



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, M/M, Past Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 17:53:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18856072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Albertdoesnteatglass/pseuds/Albertdoesnteatglass
Summary: It was a foggy September morning, everything was quiet, almost too quiet. Everyone in the city was just starting their day, waking up, cooking, cleaning, and going out for the day, unaware of the heartbreak some had experienced over the week. Spot Conlon was, unfortunately, one of the people who had experienced this heartbreak, and he’d had it worst of all.





	Carry On

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

It was a foggy September morning, everything was quiet, almost too quiet. Everyone in the city was just starting their day, waking up, cooking, cleaning, and going out for the day, unaware of the heartbreak some had experienced over the week. Spot Conlon was, unfortunately, one of the people who had experienced this heartbreak, and he’d had it worst of all.

 

As the sun shone through the blinds of the small, cramped apartment, Spot blinked his eyes open, groaning softly. The bed felt cold, unamiliar, and empty without him. He opened his eyes all the way, allowing his gaze to wander around the room. His eyes soon landed on the messily discarded suit jacket and tie, laying wrinkled on the chair beside his dresser. His thoughts drifted to the day before, standing in a crowded room, rain pouring outside, people wearing black scattered about, and the casket. He remembered walking up to it, shaking hands fidgeting with his tie. He remembered looking into it, seeing him, laying cold, motionless, yet looking peaceful, calm. He didn’t look like himself, despite it being the same body that was laying in his arms laughing days before, he looked empty, emotionless, unlike the boy so full of life he had known before. He remembered the bright orange floral tie Albert was wearing. He remembered seeing Race, a sobbing mess who could barely stand, and feeling heartbroken over for the boy. He remembered sitting on the pews, appearing emotionless, yet afterwards locking himself in the bathroom to cry, to let his few tears turn into gentle sobs.

A yell from outside the apartment snapped him back to reality, as he sat up wiping the tears he hadn’t realized had fallen. He looked around the room, his heart sunk in his chest as he saw all the things that hadn’t belonged to him, that had belonged to him. A small music box sat on the dresser, a sunset painted on the side of the wooden box. Spot sat up, longing to hear the music again. The music they had danced to months before, after they had gotten engaged, nothing mattered except them. Only them. He sighed, picking the small box up, winding it slowly, letting it played. The light, soft melody filled the air, the room gaining a softer, calmer, yet sadder energy. Spot looked over the box, despite the same thing being on there for years.

He remembered when they first met, they had been in highschool and he’d been head over heels for him. He remembered the first time they spoke, shy, quiet, hesitant. The first date they went on, light, happy, sweet, the first time he’d played the music box. When they moved in together, bright, exciting, energetic. The night he proposed, gentle, slow, yet thrilling. He looked at one of the sides of the box, squinting at a side that appeared to be loose. He caustiously poked at it, spotting a small piece of paper. Surprised and confused, he pulled on it, revealing a small note.

 

_“Dear Spot, gosh, that’s too formal isn’t it?_

_I never thought I’d be writing this, not this soon anyways. I just wanted to let you know I love you. Even when I’m gone, I’ll be right by your side. I hope you even find this letter, gosh if you don’t then I’m wasting my precious Tetris time. Heh. Anyways, be strong, please? You don’t have to wear matching socks to my funeral, even though I know you’ll try. Anyways, I don’t really know what to say, I love you, please don’t forget me, please, please, please.Take care of Race for me, Lord knows he’ll need someone. I would give the world for just one more year, one more month, anything, to be with you longer. Stay strong, keep going._

_I’ll love you forever, Albert.”_

Spot stood shocked, and sat the music box down with shaking hands, smiling slightly. He folded the note back up, smoothing the creases with trembling fingers. He felt himself choking up. He missed him so much. So, so, so much. He sat the note in the drawer of the bedside table, running a hand through his hair. A few tears managed to slip out as he lied down on the bed, thinking about him. He was all he could think about. He had always been all he could think about. The way his hair looked, it always looked soft, he just always wanted to run his hands through it, and he adored the ginger color. His eyes, that were always so big, bright, and full of life. His freckles, dusted on him like stars on his pale skin. He was beautiful. Spot sighed. What was he supposed to do now? The love of his life was gone. He had to keep going, it’s what she would’ve wanted. He should see Race today, check on him, Albert would’ve appreciated that, right?

He stood up, looking in the mirror. He looked like trash, hair matted, dark bags under his eyes, paired with eyes puffy from crying. Well, Race presumably didn’t look much better, so it’d probably be fine. He threw on a sweatshirt, _Al’s favorite one to steal, he thought_ and tried to brush his hair out. He grabbed a blanket he thought Race would like, a fluffy, faded, maroon one on his way out and threw it into his car. It was a green Beetle, with far too many air fresheners that Albert insisted on. He sighed fondly at the memory of seeing him with a basket full of air fresheners at Dollar Tree. Spot cranked the car, checking his pocket. The music box was in there. He pushed down the tears that he felt welling up in his eyes, starting the car.

 

**It would take time, but everything would be alright.**

**Author's Note:**

> Every comment/kudos brings me a little further out of the void
> 
> My Tumblr: Albertdoesnteatglass


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